Never Have I Ever
by fifth-essence
Summary: The crew of the Black Lagoon play a drinking game after a long day. New mission: Make your buddies fall over before you do.


A particularly nasty run-in with the knife-wielding gangs of Chiang Mai spurred Dutch to offer his collection of good whiskey in the place of hazard pay for the crew of the Lagoon. It was a pretty good deal, since after seeing death in the slashing blades of local hooligans, nobody expected to live long enough to spend the extra money.

"You'll love this one," Benny said, pouring the first round magnanimously. "It's called 'Never Have I Ever'."

Rock frowned. "Never have I ever what?"

Revy laughed, raising her glass to Benny. "Oh god, yes."

Rock was totally lost, but Revy was too busy snickering to answer his pleading look. Dutch picked up the explanation. "You name something you've never done, and anyone who has done it takes a drink," he told him. "Basically, try not to pass out before you find out whose life is the most boring."

Revy banged her glass on the table. "Me first!" No one argued, so she went straight ahead. "Never have I ever… been shot in the ass."

"Hey!" Benny complained. "Not in front of the new guy!"

"That's the fucking point! Drink!"

"Did it hurt?" Rock asked incredulously, eyes wide.

Benny held up a hand for patience as he drained his glass.

"Course it did, I've got a bony ass," he said finally. "Okay… Never have I ever got a tattoo!"

"Low hanging fruit, man," Dutch said as Revy slurped down the whiskey.

"As if you'd have the balls to get inked!" she retorted.

"My turn," Dutch said. He thought about it. "Never have I pissed overboard like a fool." Revy and Benny both groaned and downed their drinks while Rock looked on, horrified.

"I take it that's a rule on this boat," Rock said.

"Wha- No!" Benny spluttered. "It's just… have you tried pissing into the wind? Goes everywhere."

"Well, if you fixed the toilet like I said that time," Revy began, but Dutch cut her off.

"Alright, Rock, go for it."

Rock racked his brains. What was the biggest difference between their colourful lives and his?

"Never have I ever… lived in America?" he said.

"Going for the multi kill," Benny commented, taking his third round like a prize. Dutch enjoyed his like a connoisseur while Revy started to turn pink under her tan.

"Cheap shot, you Jap," she said. "Fine! Never have I ever had a girlfriend."

The three men drank in sync. Revy looked disappointed. "Shit, I could have sworn this guy was unlaid - oi, Benny, your virtual girlfriend doesn't count!"

Benny's victorious cry of "You just called her my girlfriend!" was overruled, but it was too late to get the alcohol back in the glass. On his turn, Benny turned to Rock with an evil grin. "Revy's got a point - never have I ever had sex!"

Rock felt his face burning at a heat far beyond the ability of alcohol to produce. Revy laughed between gulps of rum and cries of "I fucking knew it!" as Benny completely ignored the rules of the game, emptying the glass anyway. Dutch was faintly amused.

"You had a girlfriend but…" Dutch trailed off, Revy and Benny's hooting finishing the sentence for him.

"W-we were never that serious!" Rock stammered, feeling an insane need to defend himself. "I just - she'd never—" The uproarious laughter gave his dignity absolutely no quarter.

"Dutch!" Revy shouted. "Ask him if he got to second base!"

Dutch scratched his head. "But _I've_ gotten to second base—"

"Oh fuck the rules!" Revy slapped Rock on the back so hard he tasted acid. "Hey, Rock, have you ever—"

Dutch cleared his throat. "Never have I ever eaten fish. Give him some room, Revy."

She settled down, grumbling.

Benny chimed in, "Are lobsters a fish?"

Rock was grateful for a normal question. "No, they're a type of crustacean—"

"How do you not eat fish?" Revy asked Dutch. "We live next to the sea."

"They taste like shit," Dutch replied, lighting up. "I'll stick to veg."

Rock buried his face in the last round of whiskey, hoping it would cool his flaming cheeks. Revy was making obscene hand gestures at him, smirking as though the metaphorical sex was all he'd ever get. Benny leaned over and topped his glass off with the new bottle of rum, winking. "There isn't a crime Revy hasn't tried," he whispered conspiratorially. "You'll win that way." He clinked the bottle to Rock's glass in a show of support.

Rock privately thought drinking games weren't made to be won but took the advice on his next turn. "Never have I… stolen a car?"

Dutch and Revy's drinks disappeared in a flash, followed by Benny's after a pointed look from his employer. Rock gave them all a flat look.

"So that car outside is stolen too?" he asked.

"Of course not," Dutch said, looking hurt. "Just the plates." Rock laughed despite himself, toasting his boss across the table.

Revy had to count on her fingers after six drinks. "H-hang on, Benny and me are six, Dutch is on four and Rock's on—"

"Two," he said helpfully.

"Fuck you," she said. Not the response he expected. "You're not leaving until I get ten drinks in ya. My turn!"

True to her word, Revy's questions were headed straight for him, usually pointing out pathetic aspects of his sunny, middle-class life. Like not knowing how to tie a bend knot or bribe the right people. He countered with every major felony he could list, turning up some surprising responses.

"What the hell is a barratry?" Revy demanded.

"That's when you screw up your own ship," Benny said, by way of explaining. He'd only managed to make Dutch drink, but from his smug look, it was exactly what he wanted.

Rock turned to Dutch curiously. "Why would you do that?" Rock had met new fathers with less enthusiasm for their firstborn than Dutch for his ship.

"Sometimes," Dutch said. "People try to take my ship. I make it so they can't."

Revy snorted into her drink, and he caught the word "Balalaika" in a mix of awe and disgust. Her tenth drink had been mixed with some room temperature tequila, and warm, neat tequila was exactly what Rock would have to start drinking if he didn't get Revy under the table first. He shuddered at the thought.

"Never have I ever… gone to jail."

As Benny argued that a week in holding was pretty much jail, Revy silently grabbed the bottle and filled her glass to the brim, knocking it all back in one go. It would be a line of fire going down. Dutch looked at Revy from behind his glasses, not saying a word.

"Um, Revy—" That was more than a double shot, Rock wanted to say, but she cut him off.

"Never have I ever had siblings," she said.

Rock drank as the game continued, but he couldn't shake off the glitter of hate in her eyes. Revy didn't look at him anymore, but when their gaze met as they passed the bottle her eyes were black and simmering.

Rock didn't know what to say. He nudged Benny and asked quietly, "What happened?" He got only vehement head shaking.

As they played on, Rock watched as Revy's refills grew larger and larger until she was steadily taking one-and-a-half shots with each round. Her words slurred, profanities sliding into each other. It didn't feel right at all.

"Revy," he said, when she decided to take her penalty straight from the bottle. "Are you oka- Ow!"

Dutch kicked him under the table, and not gently either. Rock got the point.

 _Never have I ever felt like such a dick,_ he thought.

The hands of the clock crawled past midnight, empty bottles standing around the table like totem poles. Revy could barely keep her head up, but had no problem swearing at them when they tried to take her glass. They agreed to finish the game when she nearly drank from the ashtray.

"I'm taking the couch," Benny announced, passing out the instant he hit the cushions. Dutch took his own car, and Rock was left to get himself and Revy home. She'd had maybe twenty drinks and was swaying like a sapling in a storm, stumbling on the narrow steps. He called a cab and folded her into it, directing the driver home. The air-conditioning breathed some life back into her, and Revy could even walk slowly against Rock's shoulder when they got back to their dark, rundown hotel.

The silence was punishing. "Revy, I'm…" Rock's brain ran ahead of his mouth. _Sorry for making you drink? Sorry for bringing up your criminal past?_ "…sorry." he finished, The word felt woefully inadequate after seeing her chase death in the bottom of every glass.

She shuffled beside him for a moment, then said, "S'okay. Y'dunno anything."

He laughed weakly, holding her close. "Yeah, I guess I don't."

"Ya don't even know what sex is like," she grinned impishly at him, eyes dancing.

"Oh god," Rock said. "Fuck off." The eight shots and her ongoing company had eroded the last of his civility. She laughed, rocking her hips sideways into him. It was like being rammed by a motorbike.

"S'true! An' no kiss even!" Revy said, laughing even harder. She had jumped straight into the giggling drunk category, and found his romantic life, or lack of one, the funniest thing ever. Rock couldn't say he shared the feeling. Besides, if a trigger-happy, bloodthirsty murderess happened to find his love life tragic, it was probably royally fucked.

He half-carried her to her room, opening the door with a well-timed shove. He had pushed her through, praying for a quick escape to his own room when she turned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing her lips to his.

He nearly fell under her sudden weight, her toned body slackening into soft curves against him. Rock was stunned - he could see the blurred edge of her cheek where it was pink from the drinks, a rosy flush right to the roots of her hair. Too startled to resist, his mouth opened under hers as she pushed in with a hot, wet tongue. Rock shut his eyes, as though seeing their closeness made it far too real to handle.

His body had broken away from his brain, sending back strings of sensation and refusing to take signals to move. _Hell_ , he thought, kissing her back. She tasted like a cacophony of liquor, heated to perfect temperature and poured back into him like ambrosia. Her hands behind him matched the pace of her mouth, fumbling across his shoulder blades and across his tongue in flitting, breathless acts, making every moment last longer than the physical sensation.

Eyes shut, he could imagine anyone else, but his mind's eye pictured the sun-browned skin of a gunslinger anyway. Her touch softened, the dark hair that flew like a banner in firefights and sea gales now brushed softly on his face, her hands curling gently on his back. _Revy…_ As though hearing his silent words, a hand crept up to his bare neck, where his pulse fluttered and jumped under the heat of her palm.

He raised his hands to her waist, but met with empty air; Revy pulled away, a strange lopsided grin on her face. She smiled at him past the half-closed door.

"Now ya can't win with that one again," she said.

Rock heard the door click shut and he was left in the empty corridor, his lips still wet from her kiss.


End file.
